


To Everything There Is a Season

by teacuphuman



Series: 2016 Inception Kink Bingo [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Golden shower, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:51:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7512449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacuphuman/pseuds/teacuphuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Inception Kink Bingo 2016-Golden Showers</p><p>Arthur finds a novel way of thanking Eames for having his back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Everything There Is a Season

**Author's Note:**

> I seriously did not think I could write this, but I'm kind of proud of it now!

By the time Eames makes it to the showers, the others have come and gone, leaving nothing but the stench of sweat and puddles of water on the floor. Coach made him run suicide sprints after he lost his temper with Nash, one of the midfielders. It’s not Eames’ fault Nash plays dirty and can’t take his own medicine. He’d gladly trample the little shit a thousand times if it kept Arthur from being injured.

 

Instead of punching the tiles in front of him, and most likely breaking something, Eames turns the water all the way to the left and stands under the spray. The scalding flow slicks away the dirt and sweat that’s accumulated on his skin, and Eames watches a clump of grass circle the drain before being sucked under. 

 

A locker slams shut behind him and his foot slips as he whips around. He flails a little before catching his balance on the low wall that divides the showers from the locker room. Arthur is staring at him, stripped down to his uniform shorts, lacross stick abandoned on top of the row of lockers. There’s a purpling bruise around Arthur’s shoulder joint and his eyes are dark. Eames flushes, thankful for the steam obscuring the space between them. He turns back to the wall, reaching for this body wash, hoping to get out of there as soon as possible, and desperate to get away from Arthur.

 

Eames’ freezes when Arthur steps up to the shower beside him and turns on the water. He squeezes his eyes shut and dunks his head under the spray, blocking out the movements of the boy beside him. He gasps in surprise at the hand on his shoulder, sputtering and choking before he can get his face clear of the water.

 

“Are you trying to drown yourself?” Arthur raises an eyebrow.

 

Eames shakes his head, pushing his dripping hair out of his eyes. 

 

“I said thank you, but I don’t think you heard me.” 

 

“For what?” Eames goes back to scrubbing his body, careful to keep his hands above his waist, lest Arthur get the wrong idea.

 

“For taking Nash out after that cheap hit.” Arthur says, hand lingering on Eames’ shoulder.

 

“Wasn’t sportsmanlike, according to Coach.” Eames shrugs, but Arthur’s hand doesn’t move.

 

“Neither was him taking me out from behind. He’s a rat bastard. I appreciate you looking out for me.” Arthur’s fingers squeeze Eames’ trapezius.

 

“S’my job, innit? Watch your back. You’re the captain, after all.”

 

“And you’re the goalie, so no, watching my back isn’t exactly your job.” Arthur smiles and his hand slides down to grip Eames’ bicep.

 

Eames stares at Arthur’s hand, unsure of how he should be reacting. Normally, guys sharing a locker room shower keep their hands to themselves and their eyes in front of them. Arthur is standing barely a foot away from him, and when Eames looks up, Arthur’s gaze is raking over Eames’ body. 

 

“What are you doing?” Eames whispers, his voice almost drowned out by the rush of the water.

 

“I’m saying thank you,” Arthur steps closer. “You deserve to be thanked.”

 

“It was nothing.” Eames insists, horrified that his cock is taking notice of way Arthur’s hand is now stroking up and down his arm.

 

“It wasn’t nothing to me. Nash nearly separated my shoulder. Best case senario, I would have been out half the season. You had him on the ground before Coach even got to me, but I saw it all.” Arthur grabs the bodywash, finally releasing Eames’ arm to squirt some into his hand. 

 

“Did you?” Eames can’t pull his gaze from Arthur working the soap into a lather.

 

“For a second I thought you were going to take your stick to his head,” Arthur spreads his hands over Eames’ chest, turning him away from the spray and backing him up against the divider. “It was really hot.”

 

Arthur’s hands roam Eames’ torso, spreading the soap and dipping lower and lower until Eames groans.

 

“What are you doing?” He repeats, head falling back when Arthur’s hands slide over his hips to scratch gently at the hair around Eames’ cock.

 

“I told you, I’m thanking you. You can’t say you don’t want me to. You’re not as good as averting your eyes as you think you are.”

 

Eames’ head snaps up. It’s true, Eames has had a crush on Arthur all year. More of an obsession, really. He’s frequently the last in the locker room, hiding his erection from the others so he can jerk off under whichever showerhead Arthur happened to use that day, sometimes using the other boy’s shower gel if it’s been left behind.

 

Arthur’s hand brushes against his cock and Eames gasps, arching toward the touch.

 

“What do you think about in here, all alone, after we’ve all gone?” 

 

“I don’t-” Eames’ voice gives out and his eyes slide closed as Arthur trails two fingers over his balls, massaging Eames’ sack gently.

 

“Yes, you do. I’ve seen you.”

 

Eames opens his eyes to Arthur’s wicked smile and slumps against the wall.

 

“I wasn’t sure if it was just me until tonight. You could have been jacking off to anyone on the team, but I saw the look in your eyes when you took down Nash. You wanted to hurt him. For me.”

 

“Yes,” Eames gasps as Arthur’s hand curls around his cock, stroking slow and firm.

 

“I knew it.”

 

For a moment, Eames worries that this has all been a ploy to get Eames to admit his shame, but Arthur’s hand speeds up and he leans in to run his tongue over the tattoo above Eames’ clavicle.

 

Eames doesn’t know where to put his hands, isn’t sure if he’s allowed to touch, but when Arthur’s tongue invades his mouth, he can’t stop himself from crushing their bodies together. Arthur lets go of his cock to grab Eames’ wrists and pin them along the top of the wall.

 

“What did you think about?” Arthur asks again, sliding his body along Eames’.

 

Eames tries to pull his hands away, but Arthur’s always been stronger than he looks. It’s one of the reason’s he’s such a good player; he’s always underestimated. It’s also one of the reason’s Eames is drawn to him. Arthur has a sharp lethality to him that Eames only rarely sees on the playing field. Having that facet of Arthur pressed up against him, holding him in place, is enough to make Eames beg for whatever Arthur’s willing to give him.

 

“You,” Eames strains against Arthur, just to feel him flex his strength. “On, on your knees.”

 

Arthur bites Eames’ lip, growling a little. “Oh course you did. So predictable, Eames.”

 

“Can’t go wrong with a classic.” Eames leans his head to the side, enjoying Arthur’s biting kisses down his throat, the attention of the other boy giving him confidence.

 

“That sounds like an appropriate reward. You bring Nash to his knees, so I get on mine for you. What do you think?”

 

“Fuck, Arthur.” Eames blinks rapidly. The room is filled with steam now and the heat is oppressive

 

“Is that a yes?” 

 

“Yes, God, yes.” 

 

Arthur presses his cheek to Eames’ temple, writhing in short, sharp movements. “You will stay exactly as you are. If you don’t, I will stop, and I will walk away. Is that clear?”

 

Eames shivers, nodding his head feverishly.

 

“Hmm?” Arthur taps their heads together.

 

“Yes, Arthur. I will stay here. Right here.”

 

“Good boy.” Arthur kisses Eames’ temple and slided to his knees.

 

Arthur wastes no time getting his mouth around Eames. He takes Eames in, inch by inch, fingers pressed into Eames’ hips hard enough to bruise, until Arthur’s nose is buried in the hair at the base of Eames’ cock. For a few blissful minutes, all Eames knows is the heat and drag of Arthur’s mouth, but as his pleasure starts to build, he becomes aware of another urge.

 

He clamps his mouth shut, willing his orgasm to build faster so he doesn’t have to embarrass himself, but as Arthur slows, pulling off to suckle his foreskin, Eames’ bladder starts to protest.

 

“Stop,” Eames gasps, cursing himself. “Please, just for a second.”

 

Arthur pulls back immediately. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Fuck, I have to piss. I’m so sorry.” Eames can’t meet Arthur’s eye and he’s never been so mortified. 

 

“So piss.” Arthur says, rubbing his hands along Eames’ thighs.

 

Eames groans. “I can’t like this. And I don’t see myself going limp anytime soon with you still down there.”

 

Arthur considers Eames’ cock for a moment before grinning up at him. “Can I try something?”

 

“Okay,” Eames is wary, but trying not to squirm. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to move yet, and he doesn’t want to chance it and have Arthur walk away. “What’re you-”

 

Arthur pops up and grabs the bottle of body wash. “You can say no, or stop, but other than that, no talking, okay?”

 

Eames presses his lips together and nods. Arthur’s commands are having the exact opposite effect of what he needs right now, but he can’t bring himself to complain. Too many nights he’s spent fantasizing of this exact scene, of Arthur on his knees, sucking his cock. He knows if he fucks this up, he’ll never forgive himself.

 

Arthur kneels and works up a lather between his hands again. Eames clenches at the first touch, but before he can really react, Arthur has two fingers inside him to the second knuckle and it’s all he can do to lock his knees so he doesn’t collapse. He opens his mouth to swear, catching himself when he remembers Arthur’s instructions. Just as he tries to will his body to relax, Arthur twists his fingers, thrusting in further, and making Eames yelp in surprise and pain.

 

It’s a few seconds before Eames realizes his cock has softened enough for his bladder to release. Arthur pulls back as it splashes his chin and Eames wants to curl up and die.

 

“Shh, shh, it’s fine,” Arthur pets at Eames’ side, adjusting his position so the stream is hitting him in the chest. “Let it all out.”

 

Eames is mortified. He’s never wanted the earth to open up and devour him so urgently before. And he can’t seem to stop. All the water he’d guzzled while sweating through his punishment is now defiling Arthur and Eames can do nothing to stem the tide. But Arthur, Arthur is rubbing low on Eames’ tummy, coaxing out every last drop until Eames is empty and gasping above him.

 

The second the Eames’ half hard cock stops dribbling, Arthur’s taking him in again, moaning as Eames thickens on his tongue. The fingers in his ass start thrusting, slow and shallow this time, helping Eames get right back to where he was before they’d paused. 

 

Arthur’s head is bobbing, taking Eames in far enough to choke himself, then pulling off with a wet pop and starting all over again. Eames’ cock smears across Arthur’s cheek before Arthur can get it back in his mouth and Eames notices the frantic movements of Arthur’s other hand. 

 

Arthur looks up at him, pupils blown wide and colour high on his cheeks as he chases Eames’ cock with his tongue. Eames’ fingers bite into the grout to keep from using one hand to steady his dick and the other to shove Arthur’s head onto it. As if he knows what Eames is thinking, Arthur groans, sending vibrations through Eames and pushing him over the edge. 

 

Eames fights to keep his eyes open, to watch Arthur’s technique turn sloppy as come floods his mouth and his own hand strokes his cock frantically. Eames clenches around the fingers in his ass and nearly screams when Arthur’s orgasm hits, making him bite down a little.

 

Arthur keeps Eames’ spent cock in his mouth until his own breath has evened out and he’s coaxed his fingers out of Eames’ oversensitive ass. Arthur presses his forehead to Eames’ thigh, reaching for a hand up. He stumbles into Eames, draping his arms across Eames’ shoulders. 

 

Eames eases his arms off the wall, clenching and unclenching his hands to restore blood flow. Now that it’s over, his embarrassment has returned and he’s not sure what to do. He can feel Arthur shaking against him, and he doesn’t realize the boy is laughing until he snorts into Eames’ neck.

 

“Jesus, that was hot,” Arthur scrapes his teeth over Eames’ pulse. “I guess we should clean up properly now. I’m starving.”

 

Eames must look confused when Arthur finally pulls away because Arthur stops, stroking his hands over Eames’ chest again.

 

“Don’t be embarrassed, it was fine. More than fine, actually.” Arthur pecks him on the lips.

 

“Yeah?” Eames asks, still waiting for Arthur to recoil.

 

“Fuck, yes. It was warm, and masculine, and, and kind of primitive, you know? Did you like it?”

 

“I don’t know,” Eames answers slowly. “Have you done that before?” 

 

“No, but I’d like to do it again.” Arthur grins.

 

“With me?” Eames tries for casual and misses by a mile.

 

Arthur grabs Eames’ chin, angling it so Eames has to look at him. “Now that I’ve got you, I’m not letting you go.”

 

Eames shivers at the finality in Arthur’s voice and when Arthur kisses him, he finally lets himself believe it’s for real.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [teacuphuman09](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/teacuphuman09)


End file.
